


Green

by skargasm



Series: Just Another Part!verse [3]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little snippet from the 'Just Another Part of Me' verse where Angel finally stops fighting his attraction to Wesley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green

“Safe words Wes – red for stop, green for go and don't make the mistake of thinking you won't need them. Because right now all I really want to do is shove you up against this wall, rip off those pants and fuck you in front of our fascinated audience. Take you right here, right now to prove that you're mine and that they shouldn't even dare to _look_ at you in future because I will rip their eyes out of their heads and make them eat them! You smell like submission and seduction all in one and it's been driving me insane for weeks now – so it's make your mind up time. Are you ready to be mine Wes? Ready to stop circling each other wondering who's going to make the first move, just who's going to crack and break this stupid stalemate we've talked ourselves into?!” Speaking right into Wes' ear, almost growling with the desire that he was barely keeping leashed, he used his entire body to hold him in place against the wall as he slowly ground his almost painful erection against the tight leather pants Wesley was wearing. 

Part of him was conscious of their audience and who was where in their immediate radius – the disappointed ones who had hoped to be in his place, to have the chance to have this powerful knowledgeable man on his knees in front of them, lips swollen and wet from being fucked, eyes bleary with need and submission; the others who were enjoying the impromptu show, feeding off of the blasts of lust and rage permeating the air. Always aware of them in case they came too close to what was his. To what he had almost lost because of his stubborn insistence on not being 'happy'. Like he could ever be that kind of happy again – he had Spike and Xander living under his roof; the Powers That Be on his case all the time with more and more visions; new demons all the time wanting to challenge his authority, mess with his territory. No, there was no place in all of that for happy. 

But there was a place for **this** – this possessive, desperate need to have Wesley bound and gagged next to him – to simply **have** Wesley. He wanted nights, days, weeks, months of turning over in the night and just seeing him there where he belonged. He wanted an eternity of sliding between those muscular thighs and nudging his way into what he knew would be the tightest, most heavenly welcome. He wanted Wesley and he was sick of fighting it. But he needed to know whether Wesley was sick of it all too – was tired of seeing everyone else get their happy ever after – Xander's hyena ascension; Spike's acceptance by the majority of the clan so that he and Xander were accepted as a true mated pair; Cordelia and Gunn in all of their argumentative, passionate glory. 

Wes whimpered and he realised he was almost crushing him into the wall, one hand having almost automatically grabbed at Wesley's and putting them over his head and holding them in place. That his other hand had slid beneath the slim gap in the front of the leather pants and was rhythmically stroking and squeezing Wesley's cock in a possessive grasp. 

“Wes?” His voice was unsteady and he tried to steel himself to step back if that was what Wesley needed. He had no interest in force – he wanted all of Wesley's honest desire and need fixated on him but he wanted it voluntarily. Taking away Wesley's power meant nothing – being _given_ power over Wesley meant damned near everything. The lack of answer had him stiffening and he began to slide his hand reluctantly out of the tight leather, an animalistic howl almost escaping him at the thought of letting go of all of this after he had got so close – close enough to smell, to almost taste, to possessively touch.... The word when it came was barely a whisper but he heard it as clearly as a shout, a roar of triumph fighting to get free as he registered what Wesley said.

“Green.”

* * *

fin

* * *


End file.
